


Undeserving

by Ebyru



Series: Ep 7x23 'verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Internal Monologue, M/M, Poetry, Pre-Slash, Season 7 Spoilers, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-22
Updated: 2012-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-05 19:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/410205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebyru/pseuds/Ebyru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel consider what exactly is going on between them.</p><p>Part 2/2</p><p>Excerpt:<br/>"To love a human, to love this man,<br/>to be in love so completely, I’ve lost track of who I am."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undeserving

**Author's Note:**

> This is Castiel's POV.  
> Spoilers for episode 23 of Season 7.
> 
> Inspired by:  
> Well--  
> all things turn bitter in the end  
> whether you choose the right or  
> the left way  
> and--  
> dreams are not a bad thing.

It’s surprisingly warm.

I hold him in my arms when he falls asleep.

When he stirs, I let go, quickly, with great difficulty.

It’s so hard to be here – like this – so near, so dear, so evident.

He needs me. He doesn’t say it but he thinks it.

 

I’m frightened by it.

He thinks I can save him from the creatures here.

There’s no way I can. How could he think that?

 

Could he save himself from his shackles in Hell?

No, I had to be the one. The creature from another realm.

The one never deserving of Hell.

 

Not that Dean was.

But it wasn’t my place, you see.

I could not stay there permanently.

 

Purgatory, however, is where I would go if I’d died.

And, have I? Sickeningly, I wish I could at times.

It would be so much easier than seeing his face—

angry, bitter, afraid.

 

Afraid is the worst.

 

Dean knows something.

He knows about me. He must.

I always feared the day he would.

And now it’s here, and we’re _here_ , and I can’t –

with all that is around us, waiting to devour us whole –

I can’t let my guard down. Not when it could mean losing him forever.

 

He falls asleep next to me again.

I stroke his sweat-soaked hair –

we had to run again today, or maybe it’s just a bad dream,

even for me, even while he sleeps –

I trace the shape of his face, pull him closer when he whimpers

lean in and give him my coat, my heat, all of me

all that’s left of me, actually

because I know now that I must be crazy.

 

To love a human, to love this man,

to be in love so completely, I’ve lost track of who I am.

 

Is this how love always is? I thought it was a myth.

Just a game humans played when they were sick of waiting for sudden death.

 

Sometimes I’m still wrapped around him,

Our limbs tangled, mingling in the darkness, when he wakes.

But he never says anything. He just stares.

We always stare. That’s what we’re good at.

Words never worked well between us.

 

And he goes back to sleep.

But he’s not completely there.

And this is as much permission, consent, relief I’m going to get –

So I kiss him. And he sighs.

Just like an angel, my angel; he’s the one who should be in Heaven.

This righteous man.

He’s proven time and time again that I am unworthy.

 

I am unfitting to receive his gift. The greatest gift.

Even better than the salt water I wipe from his eyes –

even warmer than the heat his body provides –

even softer than the skin of his full, red lips –

even sweeter than the hand he wraps around my wrist when I shift –

even more beautiful than his eyes on me when he thinks I rest.

 

It’s his one gift, the one I know he’s almost given at times, that makes me seek his mouth at night.

The gentle noises that breeze over my skin, that soothe us both, that keep us alive.

It’s his love I want.

 

I have it, but if I asked, he’d deny.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me your thoughts?


End file.
